


Light

by orphan_account



Category: Japanese Actor RPF
Genre: Implied Relationships, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 06:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19942081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Two sweet boys spend the night together, gossiping, reminiscing, and...!





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Step 1. Imagine the Hachioji Zombies cast camping on-site since they've been filming in a forest for the past few days;  
> Step 2. Know that the September issue of Junon has Akira naming Miura Hiroki and Kubota Yuuki when asked for men he thinks are SEXY;  
> Step 3. Read this nonsense;  
> Step 4. Refer to the End Notes for clarification on the namedrops and implications, if required!

"How was it?" Hikaru tries to ignore the unintelligible sounds heard outside, the residents of the other tents not showing any signs of tiredness despite the ungodly quantity of beer that had been consumed on the campsite. "Toumyu?"

"Hm? Uh, challenging... But I'm really proud of what we did." Akira doesn't seem to be the greatest at holding his alcohol, his tired eyes in a slight daze. "The choreography was so exciting to learn!"

"The choreography, huh... Heh." Hikaru rolls onto his side, still ignoring his sleeping bag, the heat not letting up even at night.

"Yeah. I think we really pushed our bodies beyond our usual limits!" Akira takes a sip from the last beer can he had nicked from Haruki's cooler before retiring for the night. Hikaru nuzzles his pillow, eager to hear the rest of this story. "I especially loved learning all of the Kabuki stances."

"Ka...buki...?" Hikaru frowns, surprised he hadn't heard of... Oh. "Oh no. I meant... How was it? With Miura?"

"Oh!" Akira's face, already reddened by his tipsy state, turns flustered. "Hiroki... Um. It was nice."

"Just nice?" Hikaru's crooked smile teases Akira further.

"Yeah. I wish we had more time." Akira stares at the beer label, as if he had never seen a can of Asahi before. "We just ran between rehearsals and performances. And now he's in Osaka..."

"And you're here." Hikaru's soft smile turns into a confused grimace when their zombie movie co-actors start belting out some campfire song in what Hikaru can only assume is English, Ray's typically seductively powerful voice now mostly just powerful in terms of how loud it was, their singing halted by a staff member shouting at them, hearty laughing replacing the song.

"Yep." Akira can't stifle his laugh, drunkenly giggling at their seniors. The clear sound tugs at Hikaru's heartstrings, so endeared by the way Akira's face scrunches up, and Hikaru can only think of one person who has a comparably beautiful smile. (He really needs to call Sho soon.)

"I wish you two were there for the end of year performance." Hikaru immediately feels bad for bringing it up, knowing he shouldn't be criticizing Akira's choices. "I'm sorry. I just like being with you... Uh, and Miura too, of course! I haven't seen him in so long."

"I always forget you two are friends." Akira is either ignoring Hikaru's slip or further proving just how dense he is.

"I wouldn't say friends..." Hikaru's brain likes showing him a montage of all the dirty looks he'd catch Miura aiming at him when they were younger. "...But I'd like that!"

"Really? I thought all of you tennis people were really good friends." Akira sits up to throw the empty can into their improvised trash basket, which took the form of a convenience store bag. He chuckles to himself before continuing. "I mean, I remember how jealous I was when Zaiki joined us for the concert two years ago. Hiroki was a completely different person around him."

"That's diff—" Hikaru shuts his mouth the moment it opens, realizing it was probably better to not say anything that could hurt Akira. Zaiki's business was his own despite how bad he was at keeping it that way, and Hikaru was protective of his friend. "Uh. Yeah. We're more like classmates? We don't always get along."

"Well, I'm sure Hiroki would love you!" Akira's bright smile could almost make Hikaru believe his words and forget the way Miura  _ accidentally _ shoved him while he was talking with Uno. "You're both so nice and I... Um."

Hikaru wonders what words are on the tip of Akira's tongue, but knows better than to push him. Akira is saved by their seniors' ongoing nonsense, Kubota now yelling something about  _ 'not in the tent' _ and  _ 'underwear' _ .

"Is it okay if I take my shirt off? It's too hot to sleep like this..." Akira surprises Hikaru, who just nods wordlessly.

Akira's shirt comes off in the blink of an eye and Hikaru's face melts into his pillow, nothing left but two very attentive eyes staring up at Akira. Hikaru knew his type was obvious, but there was something so unbelievably attractive about this boy, even if he was much younger and shorter than his other crushes. It wasn't just the alcohol talking.

Unlike in the neighborhooding tent, where Kubota is still failing to quiet the English gibberish coming from two men who're way too old to be giggling the way they are.

"I'd love to see what's happening in there." Akira lies back down, his chest forming the loveliest cleavage when he turns to his side and faces Hikaru, who doesn't even have the decency to look away. "Isn't Kubota so handsome?"

"What?" Hikaru finally stops nuzzling his pillow to gape at Akira incredulously.

"What? You don't think so?" Akira slides his arm under his pillow, the way his muscles flex threatening to distract Hikaru from the matter at hand.

"Uh, Yes." Hikaru is mostly surprised that Akira would make such a comment out of the blue, still picturing his friend as more of the meek type. His tennis graduate brain also makes A Certain Connection, but he doesn't want to bother Akira with it. "I mean. Of course he is. Very handsome."

"Sexy, even." Akira sighs, turning over to look at the ceiling of their tent.

"Yeah." Hikaru's eyes are wide in both surprise and need to take in the sights of Akira's defined lateral muscles. "Sexy."

"What do you think about Haruki?" Akira turns to look at him again, which just highlights the veins in his neck. Hikaru should've told him to keep his shirt on, actually.

"Um. He's really beautiful." Hikaru tries to sound casual, keeping his deep voice down. "But I think I'd die laughing before we could even hug."

Akira laughs again, his white teeth blinding Hikaru. Send help.

"That's true. I don't know how Ray does it."

"What?"   


"What?"   


"What are you talking about?" Hikaru frowns at his friends, confused by his comment.

"Aren't they dating?" Akira sits up and Hikaru has to stifle his laughter.

"No? I don't think so. What gave you that idea?" Hikaru rolls onto his back, self-consciously pulling his oversized shirt up when he notices Akira's eyes drifting to his momentarily naked shoulder.

"Hm? Uh, I don't know. They just seem to be... Really close." How did Akira come up with this yet still didn't understand that Zaiki wasn't just Miura's  _ friend _ ?

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure." Akira's hand was resting dangerously close to Hikaru's pillow, Hikaru staring at his toned forearm instead of looking up at his friend.

Hikaru hesitates for a second, shivering upon remembering that one time Miura had audibly scoffed at Hikaru and his senior, Sana, while walking past the two of them.  _ 'A darling, isn't he?' _ Sana had said while laughing, Hikaru's predecessor not nearly as anxious of other's opinions the way he was.

Right. Don't get yourself involved, Hikaru.

"Promise you won't tell anyone?" By anyone, Hikaru obviously meant Miura.

"Promise." Akira's tipsy eyes aren't any less sincere, his gentle smile confirming Hikaru's righteous decision to not say anything that could hurt him.

"Ray and I... Um..." Better to discredit himself instead. "We're... I don't know exactly."

"What are you saying?" Akira narrows his eyes in confusion, Hikaru feeling himself turn red down to the tips of his toes.

"We had sex." Hikaru immediately covers his face with his own hands and turns away from Akira before seeing his reaction.

"Oh my god!" Akira probably jumps up on his sleeping bag, the tent shaking a little. "You did!?"

Hikaru curls up on himself. Maybe he should have told Akira the reason why Miura wasn't more... romantically inclined. Okay, no. Hikaru is a good friend.

"When!? How? I want to know everything!" Akira sounds excited, not a bad bone in this boy's body.

"A few times. Whenever I go to his house..." Hikaru rolls back towards Akira, his knees still pressed up against himself for emotional protection. "It's... Good."

Hands around his neck, smoke filling his lungs, bruises on his hips. Oh, it was much better than just  _ good _ . Hikaru would gladly beg for more nights like those.

"I'm so happy for you!" Akira's genuine positivity threatens to make Hikaru's heart explode. "Maybe a little jealous! He's so handsome!"

"He is. I'm sorry." Hikaru is overwhelmed by Akira's positive response, always so self-conscious of what others might think of him and his... Habits.

"Why are you apologizing?" Akira leans forward, holding himself up by that dangerous hand.

"I shouldn't have said that. It was dumb." Hikaru presses his hand to his forehead, covering his eyes. He can't see or be seen by Akira right now.

"No, I'm the dumb one for thinking it's Haruki who was getting the...  _ French _ kisses." Akira snorts at his own joke, which just makes Hikaru fluster further.

They fall silent for a moment, Hikaru now dangerously aware of how quiet the rest of the campsite had also gotten. Maybe they should also be going to sleep if they want to be, ironically,  _ alive _ to record their scenes tomorrow.

"You know, you're cute too."

"What!?" Hikaru swings his hand away from his face, looking up at Akira with the potentially most shocked look he could ever harbour.

"You're cute! I just complimented all of the others, it's only right that I tell you too!" It's Akira's turn to be embarrassed, his cheeks turning pink again.

"I... Thank you?" Hikaru wants to look away, but Akira's flustered expression is just way too adorable. "You didn't have to."

"I did. I always think so!" Akira shifts his weight onto that hand, leaning above Hikaru. "You're so nice to everyone. And your lips are really pretty."

"Stop." Hikaru hides his mouth under his hand, increasingly self-conscious.

Akira heeds that for now, settling for quietly staring into Hikaru's eyes in what Hikaru wants to believe is drunken stupor. But fingers brush against Hikaru's wrist, a little too insistent to be accidental.

"Actually... It's Ray I'm jealous of." Akira's words make Hikaru's heart skip a beat again, as if he wasn't already nervous enough just from looking at the handsome boy leaning next to him.

"What do you mean?" Hikaru sounds breathier than intended, carefully closing his hand so his fingertips graze the ones that were resting on his wrist. This was definitely the complete opposite of not getting himself involved in Miura's...  _ business _ .

"I wouldn't mind kissing you." Akira's voice is barely above a whisper.

"Okay." Hikaru stops hiding his mouth, resting it besides his head, utterly unaware of how seductive he looked, messy hair and bed eyes and all.

"Huh?" Akira couldn't get any more dense. Maybe this was Miura's type? Oh no. Hikaru feels a shiver run down his spine. Don't think about him. The consequences can wait until later.

"Kiss me." Hikaru's raspy voice doesn't leave Akira indifferent, his friend hesitantly moving his fingers away from his wrist, instead reaching for Hikaru's other hand to hold it.

Hikaru wants to close his eyes and hide but is instead entranced by his first row view of Akira's defined collarbones, the younger and very much topless boy now hovering over him. He smells much muskier than expected, probably due to their current forest life, but Hikaru is far from hating it. If anything it might be the main cause of the warmth he feels pooling at the pit of his stomach, even more so than being trapped under this meaty piece of man .

Akira's eyes flutter closed when he leans down, lightly brushing his lips against Hikaru's while tightening his grip on his hand. Hikaru huffs as he parts his lips, inviting Akira to kiss him, moving his other hand to the back of his neck in hopes of keeping Akira close for more than simple peck. They both knew they needed more.

The sweetest moan reaches Hikaru’s ears, enjoying the way Akira reacts to his prodding tongue. Hikaru tugs on the hairs at Akira’s nape, encouraging him to lean down further, his naked chest pressing into Hikaru. Akira’s lips move against Hikaru’s in the most pleasurable ways, not hindered by his overly eager sloppy movements, and Hikaru has to stop himself from wondering how Akira came to be such a good kisser. He knew why.

Hikaru’s distracting thoughts vanish as Akira bites down on his lower lip, sucking on it deliberately until he earns an aroused whine, possibly unaware of just how badly erotic he was. Hikaru clutches Akira’s hair, unable to stop himself from squirming under him, panting as saliva drips down their lips.

With a wrist now pinned down by Akira’s strong hand, Hikaru slides his free hand down his friend’s back, enjoying the muscles that adorned it, feeling him tremble under his fingers. He would’ve wanted to feel more of his body, but Akira sits up suddenly, not bothering to wipe away the string of drool that connected their mouths.

“I’m sorry. Thank you.” Akira’s entire body seems be blushing as he shuffles under his sleeping bag despite the heat, although Hikaru thinks he can understand why, turning away from Akira before he catches sight of anything...  _ unsightly _ happening between his legs.

“I liked it.” Hikaru mumbles towards their tent’s wall.

“Me too.” Akira’s voice is barely audible. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

“...”

“...”

“Actually... I’ll just go pee real quick.” Akira sits up and unzips the tent open before practically running out.

Hikaru will make sure to  _ go _ afterwards as well.

* * *

Miura sneezes for the seemingly hundredth time this evening, unable to finish rehearsing a line without his nose getting the better of him.

“Someone must be thinking about you.” Aiba doesn’t glance up from his script, reclining in the hotel lobby’s luxurious couch.

“Well, they can stop now.” Another sneeze, the hotel’s overly well-dressed patrons glaring at him. “Unless they’re thinking about how much they love me.”

“Or maybe it’s someone you pissed off planning their revenge.”

“Me? But I’m so kind!” Miura bats his eyelashes at his senior before needing to dodge a slap from a rolled up musical script.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read!
> 
> Here is a glossary!
> 
> Ray, Haruki, Kubota = Akira and Hikaru's zombie dads.
> 
> Sho = Kato Sho, best known as Tousute's Ookanehira but also Hikaru's tennis husband.
> 
> Uno = Uno Yuuya, Hikaru's other tennis husband. Zaiki's successor, Miura's second Tezuka.
> 
> A Certain Connection = Kubota and Miura both played Atobe in the Prince of Tennis musical which makes Akira's real life actual textual fact of having named both of them as Sexy Men particularly beautiful.
> 
> Sana = Sana Hiroki, Hikaru's tennis dad, but also Zaiki's teammate. He would sleep over at Zaiki's place extremely often back in the day, hence Miura's bitterness ;-)
> 
> Aiba = Aiba Hiroki. He's in Les Misérables with Miura right now!


	2. Bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Real friends draw each other's beautiful sweet smiles](https://www.instagram.com/p/B0SMaUIh1hv/?igshid=9m4s25wy5cse)...

Hachioji’s sky lights up a few hours after they finish filming, the speckles of stars making Hikaru long for his hometown, just far enough from Tokyo’s synthetic nights to see the world above them.

But there’s little opportunity for Hikaru to admire the sky when constantly distracted by his co-actors, whether his sheepish eyes fixate on their antics or on their beauty.

Sitting around the campfire, listening to Haruki’s semi-coherent narration of one of his adventures in the western world that only Ray could relate to, Hikaru glances at Akira, watching his friend’s sharp eyes crinkle up with each nonsensical sound that spewed out of their exuberant senior’s mouth.

Hikaru shifts in his seat, thankful he had brought his tablet along for the trip, bringing his knees up to his chest to form a makeshift tray. An increasingly busy schedule deprived him from opportunities to sit down and practice his art as much as he would like to, so moments like these had to be taken advantage of, even for the quickest of doodles.

A few strokes of his finger on the screen and he finds himself, a scribbled version of his character smiling back at him with a crooked mouth.

The clear sound of Akira’s laughing pulls Hikaru’s attention away from his screen, the crackling fire lighting up the younger boy’s face in the most flattering golden hues. Seems like Haruki’s story had reached its climax, but Hikaru can’t hear his buoyant voice anymore.

Akira’s typically angular jaw seems to melt away whenever he laughs, which is far too often if the abnormal increases in Hikaru’s heart rate were anything to go by. There was something so incredibly comforting about it, the sound of his friend’s happiness turning any possible anxieties into light, Hikaru’s chest heating up as if it contained all the stars above them.

His finger moves before he can ask himself how Akira would react, instead focusing on his traits, carefully tracing his collarbones up to his neck with his finger but not in the way he would most want to, peering at the vein that throbs under the smudged makeup.

Akira laughs again, his thin lips not distracting away from the brightness of his smile, the varying angles of his teeth spelling perfection. Hikaru surprises himself, his finger still moving across the tablet despite how he was almost certainly about to pass out from sheer emotion.

He gazes up towards Akira’s eyes, the countless wrinkles that adorn them whenever he laughs competing with the beauty mark that accentuates the sharpness of his stare.

Hikaru’s finger freezes when Akira turns to look at him, a baby deer caught in the headlights, staring at Akira dewy-eyed as if looking at him had been a grave crime. But the heat in his chest snaps him out of his daze when Akira smiles at him, all kindness and clarity, not even a hint of teasing in his eyes.

Maybe he could show him the doodle sometimes.


End file.
